


Batter Up

by krazyk2314



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baseball, Baseball pants, F/M, Undercover, Werewolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:25:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4766609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krazyk2314/pseuds/krazyk2314
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A werewolf is killing off baseball players, and Dean goes underecover to stop it, looking good while doing so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Batter Up

You chuckled, laughing at Dean's expression. He had walked into the motel room you shared with him and Sam, holding a pile of what looked like clothes.

"What is it?" You asked, still chuckling over his horrified expression.  He unfolds the pile, showing you a baseball jersey, and baseball pants. The jersey was white, with blue stripes, and the pants matched.

"A uniform. " He told you, just as Sam returned from the morgue, where he had been examining the body.

"So get this..." Sam started saying before noticing your humored expression, and Dean's horrified one.

"What's going on?" Sam inquired, undoing the tie from his FBI suit. The three of you had split up, Sam going to the morgue, Dean going to the scene of the crime, while you stayed behind and did research. 

"Dean found out that the victims have all been players on this baseball league, and decided to go undercover." You tell Sam. "And he fits the type perfectly,  handsome, and full of himself."

Dean raises his eyebrow at you. "You think I'm handsome?" 

The truth was, you had a major crush on Dean, but nobody knew your secret,  and you wanted to keep it that way. 

"Leave her alone Dean." Sam told his brother, grabbing jeans and his shirts from his bed, heading into the bathroom to change. "By the way, I know what's doing the killing. We're dealing with a werewolf."

Sam closed the door, leaving you and Dean alone. "Why would a werewolf be targeting baseball players?" You questioned, but Dean just shrugged. 

"Hell if I know. But I have a game tonight, so we might have a chance to find out. Want to be my fake girlfriend and sit in the stands and cheer for me?"

Wishing he wasn't joking, and that you were really his girlfriend, you shrugged your shoulders, not trusting your voice.

Sam comes out of the bathroom, dressed in jeans, a Navy blue shirt, and a red and blue flannel. Dean brushes past him, taking his uniform and heading into the bathroom to change.

As soon as the door closes, Sam sits next to you on the bed. "Y/N, why don't you just tell him how you feel?"

You blush, before trying to recover your cool. "What are you talking about? I don't like Dean." You told him, the last sentence coming out as more of a question. 

"You can't bullshit a bullshitter. I lie for a living." Sam told you, but before you could continue to deny it, Dean came out of the bathroom, and your jaw dropped. You had always had a thing for men in baseball uniforms, and Dean looked amazing. The jersey was stretched tight across his shoulders, hugging his biceps. You followed it down to where it ws tucked into a pair of very form fitting baseball pants, showing off his powerful thighs and bowlegs.

Dean was walking awkwardly, pulling and shoving at the pants. "Stupid manager, gave me the wrong size, I feel stupid."

Dean turned around, leaning over to grab his shoes, and the sight of his rear end encased in the tight fabric was enough to cause you to drool. Sam reached over, pushing your jaw back together. "Yeah, you don't like him at all, do you?" He teased, and you blushed, big time.

Dean turned back around, just in time to see your face go red. His eyebrows creased, showing his concern. "Y/N, are you okay? You look flushed." He asked, oblivious to your discomfort. 

"Fine, your fine..I mean.. I'm fine. Let's go!" You stutter, turning even more red, if that was possible. 

You lead the way out the door, silently climbing in the back, ignoring the teasing look Sam gave you. Dean glanced back at you through the rear view mirror. 

"Sure you're okay?" He asked you, but you could see a twinkle in his eye, and knew he knew about your problem.

"Let's get this over with." You mutter.

Dean took off, and before you knew it, you were seated on hard bleachers with all the other girlfriends, watching Dean strut his way onto the field.

"Who's the new guy? He sure does fill out a pair of pants, doesn't he?" You heard one of the girls behind you say.

Out of spite you turn around. "You should see him out of them, it's even better." You say, shutting them up. But you had to agree, Dean was the best looking one on the field.

Dean was the designated hitter, spending most of his time on the bench, and you grew bored and started walking around, looking for clues, which is what Sam was already doing.

Noticing nothing, you lean against the bleacher,  watching the last inning, where Dean was up to bat. He hits the ball deep, and you enjoy watching him run the bases, his powerful thighs pushing him fast, his hunter training coming in handy.

"I could just eat him up." A woman behind you whispered, and you caught her licking her lips. She was tall, with auburn hair, she was quite pretty. But something about her gave you the creeps, and you left to go find Sam.

Sam was on the other side of the bleachers, a bored expression on his face. "I've got nothing Y/N. You?"

"Yeah, there is this really creepy girl over there." You tell him, pointing, but she was gone. You look for Dean, but the game is over, and he is nowhere to be found.

"Damn." You cuss, and Sam catches on quickly. He hands you your gun, while showing he had his. "You go that way." He motions to you, and you nod in understanding. 

Taking off, you look for any signs of a struggle, when you hear grunting coming from behind the bathrooms. Turning the corner, you see Dean pinned against the wall, the lady from before rubbing herself against him.

It ticked you off, and you rushed forward. "Hey Bitch, get off of him, he's mine." You demand, causing her attention to fall to you instead of Dean. You caught Dean's gaze, his eyes wide as he understood what you had just said.

The werewolf stared at you, disgust all over her face. "What would a man like him be doing with a tomboy like you. Please."

"Like he would be with a Bitch like you. Why are you killing all these guys anyway?" You ask, hoping Dean would get away. 

She laughs, before capturing Dean's arm, running her claws up and down it. "My last boyfriend was a ballplayer. That was, until I caught him cheating with his pitcher. I'm just getting my revenge."

"Not with Dean you won't," You argue before you pull your gun out, shooting her in the chest, surprise in her eyes, before she crumpled to the ground.

"Dean, are you okay?" You ask, running towards him. You touch his face, making sure for yourself that he was fine.

"Y/N, I'm fine. Really, I'm fine!" He tells you, capturing your hands between his. He waits until your eyes raise to his, before he speaks.

"Did you really mean it? Do you really like me?" He asks.

You drops your gaze to the ground, uncertainty showing in your body language. "Yeah, I like you, a lot. But it's okay if you don't feel the same. We can just forget..." You said before Dean raised your chin and captured your lips with his own. The kiss was everything you imagined it would be, sweet but steaming hot at the same time. You moaned, pressing yourself closer before you heard footsteps behind you.

Breaking apart, you blush when you see Sam behind you. "I see you finally told him. And you didn't need my help with the werewolf. Why don't I meet you back at the Impala." He muttered, turning around, and leaving you with Dean.

"Well, I guess at least one good thing came out of this baseball gig. Even if I did look ridiculous." He told you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"Do me a favor? Keep them please. For me?" You begged.

"Really?" He asked, surprised. 

"They were pretty hot." You tell him, before smacking his butt. He laughs, before you made your way back to the Impala.

**Author's Note:**

> I love baseball pants, and would love to see Dean (or Jensen) in some!


End file.
